Healing
by Tonirae
Summary: Those first few hours after the battle were hard. Unendurable hard. All they wanted was rest. To be alone. To fade away. But what they wanted and what they needed were two different things.
1. Healing Chapter 1

" _That wand's more trouble than it's worth." Said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Griffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."_

 _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. By JK Rowling_

 **Healing**

The three staggered out of the portal from the headmaster's office. Neither looking right nor left, they, as one, turned to Gryffindor Tower. They didn't care who might already be there, only if the beds were free, and they could be alone. Harry didn't notice a slight figure scuttle off ahead of them. He didn't notice much of anything.

Crawling through the portrait with the Fat Lady, she informed them that they would have the privacy they needed. Barely having the energy to continue, only Hermione was able to mutter a thanks. They divided at the foot of the stairs that separated the girls from the boys dorms, but as Ron took the first step, Hermione held onto his arm.

"Please. Stay with me." The whisper spoke of her fear, and her need of comfort.

Harry continued upwards. Pleased they had one another, he was happy to have the dorm to himself. Alone. To rest. Maybe to fade away.

As he stepped into the dorm room, he started stripping. His robe, his jacket, jumper, shirt, tee, trainers. Everything was kicked away. Nine months of wearing the same clothes, He couldn't stand the thought of ever donning them again. As much as Fleur washed them, they could never be clean again. The filth he felt was more than mere dirt.

He went straight to the shower, blasting it as hot as his skin could stand. Nothing mattered anymore, just the last year being washed down the drain. He didn't turn off the water until he couldn't imagine walking further than his old bed.

He blindly stumbled to the towel shelf and wrapped one around his waist. Without opening his eyes, he headed straight for the bed. It seemed to beckon him. As he neared it, he opened his eyes, only to find a neat pile of clothing folded at the foot of the bed. A tray of sandwiches and pumpkin juice sat on the bedside table and the most beautiful girl in the world in front of him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny touched his lips with her fingers. "Hold still," She said as she held up a small potions bottle." With a gentle touch, she dabbed dittany over his many abrasions and cuts. She reached into her pocket and brought out a small jar. With this, she smeared cream over the bruises and burns that covered his body. Special care was taken to his chest, the large burn that marked his most recent encounter with death. "Shh, don't talk. Dress. Eat. Sleep. It's my turn to protect you." She kissed his lips, then stepped around him and went towards the door.

With her back to him, he grabbed the pair of sweat pants and slipped them on. Before she reached the door, Harry called. "Wait." Harry paused until she turned back to him. "Stay."

She gave him a long stare, then nodded.

Ignoring the other clothes, He moved towards the head of the bed. It seemed she had already turned the covers back, welcoming him in to rest. He crawled in then reached for a sandwich. It was devoured quickly and the second one was half gone before he could pause. "How did you know I needed this?" He asked, then took another large bite. The glass of juice followed soon after.

"Because I know you." Came her quiet answer, as she pulled a chair to sit next to the bed.

"You know me?" He asked.

"I know who you are. Not Harry Potter, the famous wizard. Not Harry Potter, the Savior of our kind. Not Harry Potter, the trouble maker. I know Harry. The man who needs to be cared for. The man who needs to be loved. The man who I love." She looked at him levelly.

The food was forgotten. His exhausted mind tried to hold what she just said. "After all that's happened, and you what?"

"Harry Potter, I love you. And I will love you until the day you die. Again." A small smile formed on her lips.

Sleep claimed him before he could say the words he so longed to say. But that was fine, he had years to say them.


	2. Healing Chapter 2 We Got This

Healing chapter 2

We Got This

Hours later, Harry stirred, and his eyes flew open. 'My watch. Danger!' He threw the blankets aside and stood, trying to reach for his wand, but it wasn't in his hand. His wand, where was it? His clothes, Not in his pocket. No pockets. Where…. his mind slowly cleared, and he took in his surroundings. Dark red curtains were draping five beds with small wardrobes standing nearby.

Gryffindor. He was in Gryffindor tower. He won. He was safe.

He then saw a young woman with red hair hanging down her back, sitting on a chair, facing the door. "It's ok Harry. It's my watch now. Go back to sleep." She said, her brown eyes were resolute.

His eyes spied the alarm clock that always stood on the table next to his bed. Noon. It's not his turn at watch. His turn to sleep. The bed welcomed him again and sleep claimed him as its own.

….

He stretched and felt the warmth by his side. Looking over, Harry saw Ginny, curled on top of the blankets, she had pushed herself as close as she could against his back, with her arm draping over him. Trying to not disturb her, he slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Washing, he paused, seeing Charlie on the chair, watching the half-closed dorm room door.

"Don't worry, Harry, My watch." The large statured man said, not really looking at him.

Harry took another large drink of the pumpkin juice and a few bites of the replenished sandwich then sleep overcame him again.

….

This time, the clock beside the bed said 19:00, seven in the evening. He had slept ten hours. He looked out the window and, in the dusk, the damage was terrifying. The courtyard was in ruins. The remnants of Hagrid's hut were still smoldering. The battle started less than twenty hours ago.

A bubble of anxiety grew in his breast. _So much, too many… if only…_

Then he felt warm arms surround him from behind. "It's ok. I'm here. It's over." He turned and looked into Ginny's eyes. He calmness, her steadiness eased the adrenaline surging through his body.

"I…I can't. So Much…" His tongue couldn't describe what his mind was trying to think.

"I know. But it's over. Come here." She led him back to the bed and handed him a bowl of thick, hot stew. "Eat. You need it."

He ate. He drank the juice. His eyes struggled to stay open. He looked accusingly at Ginny.

"Yes. It's laced with potions. Madam Pomphrey's orders. You need to heal. Sleep." She crooned, as he crawled back into his bed.

….

He woke again. This time, he felt renewed. There was no light shining through the window. The clock announced 4 am. Ginny was once again curled by his side, with a cloak as her blanket. He spread his corner of bedclothes over her and slid out of bed. Then stopped. Arthur Weasley was sitting on the chair that faced the door. But he was looking right at him.

Harry didn't know if he should feel embarrassment at being caught with Ginny, or grateful that someone was on watch. The look on Arthur's face and the friendly, confident nod made him choose the latter. They got this.

He was thirsty but didn't trust the pitcher on the bedside. He padded to the bathroom and drank from the faucet. Washing his face, he looked in the mirror. What he saw was not his face. Not really. Oh, his features were the same. Same nose, mouth, even same scar. It was the eyes. The eyes were different. While the green had not faded, there were now a few wrinkles at the corners. There was a new look of sadness. They looked old.

His body felt old. Bruises were healing but the aches still needed to be worked out. He touched the reddened scar of where the cursed locket had seared itself to his chest. And just below it, right where his heart still beat, a new mark, A mark of a radiant sun. A mark placed there by the killing curse. A mark showing that he died and then he lived.

He turned away. ' _He lived while so many didn't. Why? They all deserved to live more than he. Fred, Tonks, Remus…. No! don't go there. Now is not the time to say their names. Now is not the time.'_ With these thoughts going through his head, he turned back to his room.

With a silent nod at Arthur, he reached the clothing still left on the foot of the bed. He slipped the soft tee over his head and slid slippers over his cold feet. There were no shoes, but he refused the idea of putting his old trainers on again. He palmed his wand that was waiting patiently next on the bedside table. Another silent nod and he was out the door.

Slowly, quietly, he descended the stairs only to find Bill holding his wand and standing on the landing that separated the girl dorms from the boys. With a nod, he continued.

Harry walked quietly into the common room where he found the most of the Weasley family spread out over the area. A very bedraggled George stood sentry at the entry to the portrait, His blazing eyes just daring an attack. Everyone else was asleep. George turned and faced Harry as he neared. With a sweeping motion, Harry found himself embraced.

"Thank you, Harry. Thank you." George mumbled through tears.

"I'm so sorry, George. I wish…" Harry tried to find the words. _If only he…if only._

"Yeah. I know. It's okay." George let him go and turned back to the portrait opening. A pained half-smile, half-grimace marked his face.

Harry pushed the portrait open and stepped out into the corridor. On the right, he saw a man pacing 15 yards further down. On the left, he found a man, sitting on a chair right next to the portrait. Harry was stunned. Not by just the man, but by the pistol on his lap.

"Excuse me? But wh…" He started to ask.

"You must be Mr. Potter." The man stood and held out his hand.

"Yeah, but do I know you?" Harry shook his hand, but his eyes never left the gun.

"Robert Creevey here." Mr. Creevey tucked the gun into its holster and scanned the corridor, always on duty. "Muggle. My boys brought me along for the excitement."

"Creevey. Collin's dad?" Harry's heart plunged down to his knees, remembering another face among the dead.

"Yes. He's my boy." Came the calm answer.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want…Not for me..."

"Sorry son, but please stop there. What happened to him was not your doing. He died a hero. Those girls are alive because he caught the curse for them. He did it. His choice. Please don't take that from him." The sad, proud smile set Harry back. He didn't think about that.

"Of course, Sir…" Harry drew a deep breath. "He was a great kid. I'm honored to have known him."

Robert nodded and touched the holstered weapon at his side. "Her Majesty's Special Forces, Sniper, Retired. Milkman now. I can't use a wand, but I know how to introduce those bastards to their maker. My boy's world is now my own."

What could he say to that? "I know where he got his bravery from, sir." Harry shook his hand again. He turned as if to move down the corridor. He wanted to see the damage.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter. But we are asked to keep everyone in their rooms. There's still searches going on for survivors and enemies. Wanderers might get in the way." Robert voiced, sounding apologetic.

"Of course. I understand." With a nod of agreement, Harry turned back to the portrait. But then he remembered he didn't know a password. Before he could speak, Robert Creevey spoke up. "Victory."

The door swung open and as Harry stepped through, he spoke to Mr. Creevey. "Thank you, Sir. It's…It's been an honor talking with you."

"Go, rest, Mr. Potter." The muggle man, who didn't have to fight, turned back to the place he was willing to die for. "We got this."


	3. Healing Chapter 3 Member of the Family

Healing- Chapter 3

A Member of the Family

He felt at a loss. He knew he couldn't sleep more. He couldn't explore the castle. He didn't want to think, thinking meant reliving the past days, the past year. He couldn't do that. Not yet. As the couches and chairs were filled, Harry sat in front of the fire, burning low and warm. He could feel the heat melting the icy shell surrounding his heart. _'So many dead. So many injured. So many. So many.'_

He was falling right where he didn't want to go. The darkness was too welcoming. But if he answered, will he ever get out again?

Then a hand landed on his shoulder. Molly. She had been laying on the sofa, just behind him. If ever there was one who could drag him out of the darkness, it would be her. Well, her or Ginny.

"Harry. It's ok, you know." She said in a whisper.

"What's ok?" He asked.

"To feel. It's a part of the process." She sat up more fully on her sofa.

"I don't want to feel." He realized how childish it sounded. "I'm afraid to feel."

"So am I." She gazed into the fire, watching the flames devour more wood. "This has been my worst nightmare. But if we don't feel. If we don't think, don't remember, then what did he die for?"

"Mrs. Weasley, I don't know how…I'm so sorry. Fred…" He struggled to let the words out. As if saying the words would make the whole battle start all over again.

She nodded. "I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"So much had been put on your shoulders. I didn't want to accept it. I tried to protect you, but you were not mine to protect, were you? Forgive me?" Her voice shook, just a little.

"Forgive? There's nothing to forgive. You made me a part of your family and without your family, I…well, I would have failed. In some ways, I still failed." He patted her hand. He didn't know how to convey the gratitude and the sorrow.

"None of this was your fault, you know." Percy moved into his line of sight to stand behind his mother.

"Then why does it feel that way? If I had found things faster, if I had been smarter. Fred wouldn't be dead." The anger and guilt were bubbling up again, like a volcano, ready to erupt.

"No. You didn't blast the wall. You didn't make Fred stand in that spot." Percy leaned over the sofa back, hanging his head low, but Harry could hear him finish. "You didn't send the curse. He died, Fred did. But you didn't do it. I didn't do it. Those bastards did it. But we won!"

"Damn right, we won!" George said loudly.

"Damn right," Ginny echoed. "We've got each other. Even Fred. If we remember him, He's here." She moved slowly, as if afraid he wouldn't want her to be close. He gestured the floor beside him and she sunk low to hang her head on his shoulder.

Harry and the others sat in quiet contemplation until the rest of the family came down the stairs. Even Hermione and Ron came out of the archway to the girl's dorm as the clock on the wall chirped 6 times.

"I should see if they need help with breakfast." Molly stirred as if to rise to her feet.

"Let me check first." Arthur said, "I'll let you know if the castle is cleared yet." He slipped out of the portrait hole.

Within minutes, he was back. He nodded and held out his hand to his wife.

"Well, I don't care what else is going on, I'm going to the Burrow. I think we need to get Mum home." Charlie stated firmly. "I think the family needs to be home."

George stood and nodded at his brother, "Me too."

"I'll go with you." Bill patted Fleur's back. She nodded her agreement.

Molly looked relieved, and a bit apprehensive. What if it were not safe?

"I'd like to go too." Harry said. He stood, ready to go.

"Sorry Harry. Not this time." Bill stopped him with a raised hand.

"Why not?" _The anger again. Will it ever go away_?

"Harry, They need you downstairs. The people will need to see you." Charlie tried to convince him.

"Well, I don't want to see the people. I'm not ready for that yet." He was adamant. _The blame, the shame. It was too much._

"McGonagall talked with us last night. They need you. They need to heal also. You won't have to give a speech or anything. Just be there." Bill looked serious.

"We'll be there too." Hermione said. "I'm sure the others also."

Harry nodded in consent. He knew all along he would have to show up, to face the survivors, the real heroes.

Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Percy crawled through the portrait hole together.

"Come on, Harry, let's get down to the hall before it gets crowded. I want to avoid a grand entrance." Ron held out his hand to help Harry up.

Harry stood and grasped Ginny's hand, and the four followed the Weasley parents through the door.


	4. Healing Chapter 4 Staying

Staying

 _They divided at the foot of the stairs that separated the girls from the boys, but as Ron took the first step, Hermione held onto his arm._

" _Please. Stay with me." The whisper spoke of her fear, and her need of comfort._

 _From Healing, Chapter 1_

 _ **Staying**_

She grasped his hand and they walked slowly up the stairs. The nearest girl's dorm room was open, welcoming. Before they could say a word, Hermione started stripping. Seeing Ron's raised eyebrow, she laughed half-heartedly.

"I can't take one second more of these clothes." She held out her black bag. "I think you have something clean in there. If not, then I don't really care." She stopped herself. _What did she just say?_

"I don't really care either." Ron admitted. He too was pulling off all he could. He never felt the grime, until he had a chance to get rid of it.

Hermione vanished into the bathroom and he heard a shower turn on. "Come on in. There's a stall for you too." She yelled.

Poking his head around the corner, he saw that there were indeed two shower stalls, one on each side of the room. He grabbed a towel off a shelf by the door and stepped into the unoccupied stall. With water as hot as he could make it, he felt as if he wanted to melt down the drain along with the water. After a decent scrub, he could barely keep his eyes open enough to find a place to lie down. When the water was shut off, he could hear the unmistakable sound of Hermione's cries.

Barely taking time to wrap his towel around him, he sprinted across the bathroom and yanked the curtain open. Only to find himself facing a wet, naked, Hermione, curled into a ball on the floor, with water pouring over her. He quickly turned away and yanked a half dozen towels off the shelf and draped them over the weeping girl.

She never noticed that she was undressed. She was too locked into her own mind.

Ron squatted down to try to hold her, then realized that his scanty covering of towel flashed wide open just a foot from her face. He bounced back up and tried to figure how he could help her, without scarring her even further. There was no option.

"Mione, Honey. I have to move you. I promise I won't look." And he did try to keep the promise. He leaned down and scooped her up in his arms. Several towels slipped but she was still crying too hard to care. He went to the nearest bed and laid her on it. It had already been turned down, waiting for an occupant. looking only enough to cover her with the bed clothes, He couldn't help but see the abrasions and bruises from the battle. He adjusted the towels first to protect her modesty, then he grabbed the black bag. There wasn't much of Dittany left in the bottle, but he would make do.

Carefully, he dabbed a few drops here and there as her cries slowed and quieted. Realizing he had to turn her to get her back, He whispered in her ear." "Sweetheart, I need to turn you over. Okay?" When he got a jerky half nod, he carefully rolled her to her front. He wanted to curse Bellatrix back from death just to kill her again. Hermione still carried bruises and scars from her torment in Malfoy Manor.

Well, dittany won't do much for her old injuries, but he could at least ease the new ones. The bottle was drained by the time he was done. "Ok. I'm gonna roll you back now. I want to get you comfortable." He eased her back over and took away the damp towels, while covering her with the sheet. "Go to sleep now. I'll take this watch."

He went to move a chair, so he could see her and the door, but then he saw two sets of clothes, laying on the foot of the bed. He went to the largest pile and found some basic sweat pants and tee. They were clean, long enough, and most importantly, they were never worn by him before.

He was so tired. Every muscle, every bone hurt. He was hungry and thirsty, but there was no way he could go all the way down to the kitchen and get food. Then he saw on the small table the other side of the bed, a tray with juice and sandwiches. He silently thanked whoever was responsible for the repast. With his stomach filled, he sat for his watch. It didn't take more than a few minutes, before the sleeping potion in the juice did its job. He was asleep, slunk in a hard-back chair.

Only an hour later, he had slipped so far down the chair, that he landed on the stone floor. Jumping awake with his wand out and ready, Ron took a moment to get his bearings. It was a Gryffindor dorm, but it wasn't. There were lacy table top coverings, girl underthings poking out a half-closed drawer. The girl's dorm. A boy had actually made it to the girl's dorm. If he weren't so wiped out, he would claim bragging rights. He realized the door was closed. It should be open, so he could hear any invaders. As he turned the knob, he saw Charlie settle down in a chair at the landing to the boy's dorm.

"Go to sleep, Ron. I got this watch." His big brother said kindly.

Closing the door again, Ron moved to lie down in another bed but was stopped by a tiny voice.

"Ron, Stay with me. Please." She had awoken. Her tear swollen eyes looking into him. "I can't be alone."

"Hermione. I can't…It wouldn't be ri..." He tried to dissuade her. She was still not even dressed.

"Please. Just hold my hand tonight." She pleaded. He didn't have the heart to say that it was still late morning.

"Ok. Hold on." He grabbed a quilt that was lying on another bed. He tucked Hermione in even tighter then laid on top of her covers and wrapped himself with the quilt. _'Will I get girlfriend points for being so gallant?'_ were his final thoughts.

He woke again, hours later, when Hermione moved from the bed. He sat up, but she was padding to the bathroom before he could say a word. When she came back, she stopped.

"What are you doing Ronald Weasley?" She demanded quietly.

Uh oh. Did he misunderstand her? "You asked me to stay, so here I am."

"Sleeping means you are between the sheets, not on top of them. Silly." She smiled tiredly. When he didn't move, "Well?"

Still not quite understanding her meaning, he stood, then slipped between the sheets. "Is this what you mean?" He tried to clarify. Then, he realized she too was wearing sweats and tee. Where they came from, he had no idea, but he was grateful. If she were still wearing just a towel, He would…well, he couldn't be so gallant.

Hermione drank deep from the juice and crawled back in with Ron. "Hold me. I need you to hold me." She muttered as she drifted off to sleep.

His eyes could barely stay open long enough to slip beside his girl.

He next awoke when he felt something cold and wet being dabbed on his back. He could see only black through the crack of the heavy drapes covering the windows. The clock said one in the morning.

"Hold still Ron, I gotta get the rest of your shoulder. There." Hermione stoppered a small vial. "You can roll over again. I think I got everything." She had been sitting in bed while touching up his wounds. The bottle went back onto the table. "I found it on the table when I woke. I know you did me, now it's your turn." She laid back down and turned to face him. Being a single sized bed, they were only inches apart.

"Maybe I should…" He moved as if to leave the bed.

She grabbed his shoulder. "Don't you dare."

"Hermione, if we stay like this, I don't know if I can…"

"Ron. How long have we known each other?" She fluffed the blankets over them again.

"Since eleven." He had no idea where this would go, but he wanted to explore the possibilities.

"Right. If I were to tell you something, will you laugh at me?" He could see a tear forming in her eye.

"No." He answered simply.

"I knew you were the one for me since you…well, since you knocked out that stupid troll. I've just been too prideful to say anything."

"I guess I was the late bloomer then," He started to rub her arm gently. "For me, it was when you came back for me after the chess game. You know which one."

She huffed out a breath, "Why were we such stupid children?"

"I don't know. Maybe we weren't, I don't know, Us, enough then." He tried to explain.

"Yeah. True. We had to grow up to know what we knew." She laughed, "That sounded off right then."

"I got the idea." He laughed and reached for her hair. "Did I ever tell you how much I like your hair?"

"No, you never did." She shifted slightly, "Did I ever tell you I like your eyes?"

"No, you never did." He echoed. "But did I ever tell you how much I love you?"

"No, you never did. But can you show me?" She reached her hand to cup his face in a deep kiss. "And don't worry, I used a muffliato on the door.


	5. Healing Chapter 5 The Wall

The Wall

The journey down to the Great Hall was broken up by closed hallways and damaged stairs. At every major intersection, there was a man or woman standing guard. Harry tried hard not to see the damage that Hogwarts sustained. But he did have to sidestep a large puddle of something red and sticky. _No. He can't dwell on it. Maybe soon, but not now._

Halfway there, they heard a chime and then Professor McGonagall's voice throughout the building. "Breakfast will be served in one half hour. We would ask that all be present. Please do not leave any belongings behind."

There were only a few people in the Great hall when they entered. Argus Filtch was standing near the front of the room, talking with a house elf. Several more house elves were mopping the floor and moving tables about. The one nearest to them stopped and bowed.

"Good morning Sirs and Ladies. How can Us serve you?" His eyes were scanning the group to ascertain their needs. They then stopped onto Ron. "Kind Mr. Weasley. Us Elves will thank you for saving us. We knows you the one to open the door for us when Us were ordered by Headmaster Snape to stay in the kitchens."

Ron shifted, uncomfortable by the compliment. "Well, I hope you are all okay." He muttered, not sure what to say.

"Us not hurt, No, not one." The elf bowed again. "Can Brodo bring Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and others tea?"

"Yes Brodo, that would be lovely." Molly said kindly.

They were lead to the Gryffindor table and as they sat, a tea tray appeared. Brodo apologized, "So sorry. Us not to serve breakfast until all are here."

The little elf started to snap his fingers but Molly interrupted, "Wait!"

" Yes Miss?"

"Our things, we left everything in the dorm. Can we go back?" Mrs. Wesley asked.

"Brodo will inquire, Miss." With a nod from the group, he bowed again and snapped his fingers.

As they drank their tea, more and more people walked into the hall. Harry froze, afraid they would try to crowd him. But as a few did try to move close, with hands outstretched, several more headed them off. Harry recognized them as members of the DA. Trying to look casual, Angelina and Ernie stood a few feet in front of the table while others sat around the Weasley family. The most that the general population could do was to nod at Harry. He could handle that. Nods cost him nothing, emotional wise.

He wanted to run. The Hall was getting crowded. Crowds made him uneasy. Harry didn't realize how many had stayed in the castle overnight.

At 7:00, a large chime sounded. Everyone looked at the podium and Professor McGonagall stood silently, ready to address the filled room. When all the talking was silenced, she spoke.

"Twenty-four hours ago, our foe was defeated and the long war was ended. This war lasted for many decades. Decades of darkness and uncertainties, of fear and hate. Sacrifices were made. Sacrifices that we will acknowledge and honor. Men, women, children. They will never be forgotten." She waved a wand at the only repaired wall in the Great Hall. There was a shimmer and words appeared to be inscribed deep into the stone. Not words, names. Fifty-six names. The fifty-six who gave their lives for those who survived.

Gasps were heard, a woman at the table next to them wailed, Others crowded closer, wanting to see the names. Professor Flitwick conjured a tall step ladder and climbed to the top, over the heads of the crowd. He held his wand to his throat.

"Abel, Jonah. Akerson, Bethany and Gene. Brown, Lavender. Carson, Jennifer, Creevey, Collin…" As each name was called, more stillness settled in the hall. Harry looked down the table at Robert Creevey and his son, Dennis. They stood tall and proud, Dennis had a tear rolling down his face. "Linster, Jim. Lupin, Nyphphadora and Remus." Down the list on the wall, Filius called. As they got near the end, Harry braced himself for the name he dreaded most to hear. "Weasley, Fred…"

He reached over and grabbed Molly's hand and held it tight. The family and friends moved closer and became one entity in grief. Grief and pride.

"Let us have a minute of silence for those who fought." The new Headmistress raised her wand to the ceiling and bowed her head. As one, the room rose and did likewise. If Harry had been religious, he would have said it was the most sacred of prayers.

By some unknown sign, the room sighed. He heard a few say a soft Amen and saw one family give the sign of the cross. Food appeared on the tables. Soft talking began to roll across the Hall.

When all had finished, and people began to mix between the tables, McGonagall again stood to address the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen. To conclude this morning, I need to inform you that many parts of Hogwarts are greatly damaged. We have Engineers and Building contractors coming to assess the situation. The classrooms we had converted for you are now closed and locked. Because we cannot guarantee your safety, we ask you all to return to your homes." There were a few dismayed gasps. She stepped back and listened to Professor Sinistra whisper in her ear. She nodded and stepped forward again. "Student belongings will be packed and forwarded to the families as soon as possible."

"On your way out, please leave your names and where we might contact you when we have more information. If you feel that your home might be in danger or is not inhabitable, please see myself or one of my staff. We have lists of alternative accommodations. If you do have confrontations with undesirables, contact us immediately and we will send what is needed. Please do not contact the Auror department, as they are dealing with…" She paused, not knowing what to call them, "any escaped adversaries. Fellow Witches and Wizards, we have fought together, and we have survived together. Let's work together to make our new world a better one." She stepped back and was greeted by hearty applause from the hall. She didn't know if she should look stern or be flustered by the attention, so she just hung her head in humility.

The Weasley group took their time and were among the last to leave the hall. Mrs. Wesley went with Brodo to pack up what was left behind. Harry headed straight towards Minerva. Before she could say anything, Harry wrapped her in a strong embrace. "Thank you, Professor. We won, didn't we."

"That we did, Mr. Potter. That we did." She smiled warmly. "Now go. I'm sure we will meet up later."

Harry nodded, and looked around, looking for the one other he needed to see before he left. "Uh, Professor, have you seen Hagrid?"

Yes, He's gone down to his hut. I'm afraid the home was burned to the ground. I'm sure he'll want to see you."

Telling Ginny that he will meet her at the Burrow in a little while, Harry then hurried down to the remains of the hut. He could see Hagrid standing forlornly at the ashes. As Harry neared, Hagrid raised his head. His large shoulders straightened back, and a huge smile broke through the grief and exhaustion.

"Harry, me'boy!" He swept Harry in a back-breaking hug. "I'm so… You had me fooled there." Harry tried to but in, to explain but Hagrid cut him off. "There's a reason, I know now. But sein' ya and I wanted ter just give up right then and there. It were worse than seeing your parents when they died." At Harry's confused look, he continued. "Yeah. I'm the one to carry 'em out. I Thought that were the worst day of me life. I was wrong, you know. Carrying you out of the forest was the worst day of me life. It was all over, I thought to myself. But here you stand. I couldn't be prouder." Hagrid reached out and patted Harry on his shoulder, who had to fight from being pounded into the ground.

"Hagrid, I'm so sorry, your house."

"Aww shucks, Harry. It were just wood and stone. I'll build it up again. Fang, Grawp and me will just sleep wild until then." Fang, hearing his name, limped from behind a smashed pumpkin and nosed his master's hand. His back leg was splinted and bandaged expertly. "Now, you head on out. They wants to see what needs fixing and wants no one to be about. But I'll be sure to check on ya in a bit. At the Burrow, yeah?"

Harry nodded, then turned and went back up the hill. It was time to try something out. As he neared the entrance gates, he called out. "Kreature?"

A POP and a few feet in front of him stood his old house elf. "Master, you called?"

"Kreature, Thanks for what you did. All the house elves. You saved lives."

"Master Potter, the elves of Hogwarts will always fight to protect their school." The elf bowed low enough to touch the ground.

"You also protected me. Thank you."

"You are my Master, Sir. That is my job." The elf answered, not knowing how to take gratitude.

"Still, Thanks. Oh, and could you find and thank whoever left clothes and food for me in Gryffindor tower? It really helped."

"Oh Sir. That was Kreature. Miss Ginny asked me to do it. I took care of Master Potter and his friends. I worked with Mrs. Weasley to have all your things brought to the Burrow. Is this what you be needing?"

"Yes, it is. Thanks. It means a lot to me."

"Will Master be returning to The House of Potter?" The gruff elf asked.

"The house of Potter?" Harry smiled ruefully, "No, not for a while. I'm going to spend some time with the Weasleys and help them."

"Very well Sir. I will have everything ready for when you do return." Kreature popped out and Harry was left alone. Just a moment later, Kreature returned with a POP.

"Master, Kreature has forgotten something. Kreature has brought you some shoes. Master's feet must be cold by now."

Harry looked down at his feet and realized his warm soft slippers were now tatters and his feet were indeed cold. "Uh, Thanks Kreature. Where did these come from?" He asked holding up the black, glossy shoes last worn at the wedding.

"Master left them at home before your long journey." Came the gruff elf.

"Thanks again. How about you go back to Grimmauld place and get it ready for when I do come home, Okay?" Harry perched himself on a rock and stuffed his feet into the now too small shoe. He ended up just cramming his foot hard so the shoes could get on. His feet must have grown on the hunt. He sighed again and started walking to the entrance, where he could send himself to the Burrow.


	6. Healing Chapter 6, Homecoming

Homecoming

When he arrived at the Burrow, Harry was assaulted by Molly's flurry of activity. She flung orders randomly over her shoulders while scurrying back and forth. "Arthur, please check out the chickens, see if any survived. Hermione, please see about getting bedding on all the beds. Ginny, help me sort out the larder. Oh, Harry. I'm so glad you're here. Can you help Arthur with fresh wards on the property? Ron, you too." She bustled halfway up the first flight of stairs, "Charlie, could you check for any broken windows while you're up there? Oh, Bill. Fleur is waiting for you at Shell Cottage. You best join her." She then stepped back down and hustled back to the kitchen.

With a slight eye roll, Ron, George, and Harry slipped out the front door. Arthur followed. When Molly was heading to the back of the kitchen, out of sight of the door, Hermione joined the men. Mr. Weasley laid out his plan and pointed where he wanted each to begin the rebuilding of the perimeter. Positioning themselves on the compass points, with Arthur in the center, they raised their wands and began the spells and charms that would make the Burrow safe from attack. After the first round, they each rotated one point and laid another layer. As the wards were set, Harry could see a slight shimmering in the morning sun.

"George, check the livestock, please. The rest of you, I need help with something." He led the group around the house. George split off towards the chicken coop and the small building that used to house their cow.

"All right, now. The four of us needs to check the outside of the house. We need to look for any broken windows, loose siding or visible damage. Charlie has been checking the roofs from the inside." He pointed at a cracked window in Ginny's room, "Mark any problems with a red sign. Oh, George, any hope?"

George shook his head. "No, the chickens are gone. No sign. Not even feathers." George pulled his wand out and marked a spot on the foundation where a small crack had formed. "Cow's gone too."

Arthur shook his head. "No, I had time to let her loose in the neighbor's field with a note tied to her bell. Mr. Hinch has her, I'd bet."

They took an hour to assess the damage. Harry and Ron even found two brooms in the shed that were not damaged and used them to look at the upper levels. The overall damage was not near as bad as they feared.

As soon as they stepped back into the house, Molly was upon them again, "Arthur. Do you think you could ask Muriel for some provisions? There's nothing in the larder. I don't think the Wizarding markets are open today.

"We could ask. Why not try the floo." Arthur suggested.

"I did. It's still down." She answered, her wand was being used as a quill, making out a list.

"Ok. You finish your list and I'll go see her." Arthur was then diverted by a call from Charlie. He and George moved on upstairs to talk about the interior damage. That left Harry, Ron and the two girls standing still with nothing to do. According to Molly, this was a grave sin.

"Come on, now. I'm sure there's things you lot can work on." She waved her hands at them, dismissing them as she turned back to her list.

They stood and looked at each other. There was little to do inside, as Molly had her cleaning spells already working on the mess in the main rooms. They had already done what they could on the outside repairs. Then Ron got the right idea. "Hey, Mom. Why don't we go to Muriel's? That leaves Dad home with you."

Molly started to protest, then nodded her head and gave Ginny the list. "Thank you. While there, fill her in. I don't want her owls badgering me all hours of the day."

They walked out through the wards and joined hands. Ron had been to Muriel's home many times, so he took lead. As one, they all turned and found themselves on the lane in front of Muriel's large home.

This time, Ginny took lead, as she had been living there before the battle, she had access to the house. Muriel's house-elf opened the door as they approached.

"Miss Ginny? Master Ron? Mistress is expecting you. Follow me please." He turned and led them into the house.

It took some convincing Muriel of the severity of the battle. She ordered her elves to gather supplies and pack up the Weasley belongings. The piles grew taller than the elves, more than the four could carry.

"Don't worry, they'll take it over. But now, I need to hear more. I don't hear anything out here by myself. And your lot took off without any explanation. So, tell me more." They all had to take turns recounting the events of the last two days. It dredged up memories and thoughts that were still quite raw, but it got easier as the story went on. When they got to the part of losing Fred, Muriel turned pale and poured her tea onto her lap without realizing it. Wiping it up with her wand, she motioned for them to continue but was too shocked to interrupt.

"…and then with a simple disarming spell, Voldemort was dead. It was over." Hermione finished.

"So, my boy. You did what you set out to do." Muriel eyed Harry, like some choice cut in a butcher stall. "What are your plans now?"

"Well, Ma'am, I haven't really thought about it." He answered honestly. He was still not ready to think beyond one moment at a time.

"Don't take too long." She said sagely.

"Uh, yes Ma'am." Harry turned to his companions, trying to convey that he was getting uncomfortable. He wasn't ready for that conversation, especially with an old lady he had only met once before.

Ron was the first to speak up, "Auntie, Mom's waiting on us. Uh, we'll talk later, Okay?"

"Don't take too long, Ronald, I'm One Hundred and twenty-three, you know." She motioned for several of her elves to assist.

When they returned, Molly wasn't in as much of a tizzy. With the main chores underway, there wasn't as much to do. When she saw the elves arrive with several crates of food stuffs and other supplies, she was happy to have another thing to do. It was like she was afraid to stop.

"Right then, Girls, help me get this sorted. Harry and Ron, get those beds made. I forgot who I asked to do it." She motioned the elves to bring the large number of parcels into the kitchen.

"Percy was called into work, they wanted all hands-on-deck, it seems." Molly explained. "He said for you to be prepared, you might be needed too." She said to Arthur.

He nodded, "I'd expect so. I'll go after lunch. Can you hold the fort?"

She melted into his shoulder, "We're home, I'll be fine."

With their arms loaded with linens, Harry and Ron slumped up the stairs. As they passed each bedroom, they more-or-less just tossed the linens on the beds and moved on. They figured that each person could make their own beds. They did make the parents bed, just to show some effort. When they got to Fred and Georges room, they noticed George laying on Fred's bed. He was mumbling something into the pillow. They backed out quietly and closed the door.

They ended up in Ron's room. They made their beds, knowing that they would not do it if they put it off. But when they finished, Ron looked around in dismay. It felt weird to be there again. The posters and orange decorations seemed to belong to another time. Harry kept quiet. This seemed something Ron had to deal with.

In a fit of energy, Ron went to the nearest Chudley Cannon's poster and unpinned it from the wall. He rolled it up into a tube and started in on the next. The pile of posters was stuffed under the bed. Then Ron ripped the orange curtains off the window and wadded them up and stuffed them also under the bed. The room was bare.

When Ron sat back down on the bed, looking almost angry, Harry looked at him with an unspoken question.

Ron shook his head. "I'm not him anymore."

Before he could elaborate, the girls knocked on the door and slipped inside. "Mom actually told us to go rest until lunch." Ginny said, amazed. "Oh, and thanks for making our beds. Good job." She said in mock sincerity.

"Sure, anytime." Harry answered, with friendly sarcasm.

"Nice remodeling, Ron." Hermione said, quite sincere. She and Ron shared a look that made the other two a bit uncomfortable. Now that he had time and was sane enough to think, Harry wondered what happened to the two before they came down for breakfast _. But then again, maybe it's best he didn't know._

They sat in companionable silence while Hermione sorted what was left inside her black beaded bag. There were clothes that she threw in a pile, knowing she and the boys would never want to touch them again. Other camping supplies were stuffed back in. She noticed that the books she had rejected before their journey were still in a neat pile, so she added them to the bag.

"We're going to need to go shopping, you know." She said to everyone. "These sweatpants are fine for now, but not much longer."

"Yeah. I only have my old uniforms left. I doubt they'd still fit." Ron muttered.

"Everything I owned was in that bag." Harry remembered.

"Okay, I'll talk to Mrs. Weasley later and see what she recommends." Hermione decided, taking over the role of mother like on the journey. The guys didn't care. She was happier while in charge.

"Will Gringotts let you back in?" Ginny asked, knowing that a trip to the bank was needed before any shopping could be done.

"We'll have to ask Bill. He might know.

Molly's amplified voice announced lunch was ready.

Bill and Fleur came by after lunch to check on the family. Shell Cottage had sustained no damage in the few days they were gone. When Harry approached Bill, the older man seemed hesitant.

"They respect you, you know. But, well, there was a lot of damage to an institution that never was breached like that before. I don't know what to say, except don't try to enter until I say so. Goblins don't forgive easily or quickly."

"Do you think you could make a withdrawal for me?" Harry asked, knowing how much he needed money.

"There shouldn't be a problem with that. Just write a note like you did for Mom when she got your school supplies. I'll get to it tomorrow. Today's Sunday, so first thing." Bill smiled "Besides, I need to see if I still have a job."


	7. Healing Chapter 7, A Break by the Pond

**A Break at the Pond**

 **A little vignette that takes place the day after the Weasley's and gang return to the Burrow. Too many people, too many emotions. It is time for a break.**

She wandered outside, unseen by the others in the house. Her aimless steps led her invariably to her favorite spot near the small pond. While she positioned herself in the shade, she spied her childhood friend.

"Hello, Sara." Ginny called softly.

The turtle, now six inches across, slowly made its way to her.

Ginny reached into her pocket and brought out some eggy bread just for the little one. "Here you go." She watched the reptile munch down on the treat. "You know, you're not supposed to like that stuff."

The turtle stopped and looked up at her as if saying, 'If I don't like it, then why am I eating it?' Simple logic.

She felt a whisper of wind behind her. She couldn't see who or what it was, but she knew. "Hi Harry. Did I disturb you?"

Harry dragged the cloak off and moved closer. "Nah, I was just trying to get away from…" He gestured his hand toward the Burrow. "I'm not used to a lot of people anymore."

"I hear ya." Ginny slumped over to lay on the grass. The turtle had its fill and was standing still, contemplating the importance of the blade of grass Ginny was tickling it with.

"Did I hear you call that Sara?" Harry asked with a small chuckle.

"Yes, you did. She's my friend. Or at least I think of her as a she. Her real name is Serendipity Syrup."

"You named… what?" Harry couldn't help but laugh. Something he has not been able to for quite a while.

"Serendipity Syrup. One of Fred and George's Great pranks. They tried to get rid of Aunt Muriel with her. It worked. Then they tried to convince me that Sara is sentient. That didn't work. I was four at the time." Ginny felt safe. Talking about inconsequential things pushed the harder thoughts behind her.

The turtle snapped at the blade of grass and tore it from Ginny's hand. It tossed it down and seemed to hold its head up prideful, turn and head back down to the water.

"I think you offended it." Harry said happily. Sitting in the sun, no one else around and talking about a turtle. No one wanting anything from him.

"Hey, Gin, About the other night. I just want to say…" He was interrupted by three or four owls that swooped down from the sky overhead and zeroed into the Burrow.

"Come on Harry, I think it's the funeral schedule. And that big brown one is Shacklebolt's, if I'm not mistaken." Ginny stood and brushed herself off. She reached for his hand and helped him too.

As they ran back to the house Sara the turtle sank into the muddy water. "Not sentient, Huh! That's what she knows."

 **To learn more about Serendipity Syrup, See my other story by that name. I will do this more times. I have several stand alone stories that fit into the narrative and timelines of this series. I wrote them before I considered this one, but they all seem to work together. Please let me know how you feel about this and my other stories.**


	8. Healing Chapter 8, The Dream

I don't think Fred would leave George in a bad way. He'd find a way to take care of his carbon copy.

A Dream

Hey Georgie Porgie. Never thought you'd hear from me, did ya? Well, here I am. But listen up, because, you see, I only get this one chance. So here I go.

You gotta shape up, boy. I may have been the handsome one, but Man, you are going down hill fast. A shower wouldn't do you any harm. Really, take care of yourself. For my sake if not for yourself.

I get to tell you a few things now just so you know you're going in the right direction. Let's see. Let's start with a big one. You're going to have a great wife. I know, That's the last thing you care about right now, but she'll be the most important person in your life. You already know her. In time, you'll know it's her. Don't fight it.

You're going to have a son. Isn't that crazy? One of us will be silly enough to procreate. He'll look like his mother, but I have been giving him some pointers up here, so you can tell he'll be just like me. Lucky you. Your daughter on the other hand might give you some trouble. Oh, not that way. But she will be a looker. Keep your wand handy when she starts dating. She's going to give her Aunt Hermione a run for her money when it comes to brains, and she'll have a temper to match Granny Molly.

Yeah, you heard that right. You owe me ten Galleons. Ron is going to shape up and snag Hermione real quick. You always thought Harry will end up with her, but it'll be Ronny all the way.

It's baby sister for Harry. And it won't be too far into the future. Those two are legend up here. She might need you to back her while convincing Mum and Dad that they must be together so young. Harry needs her in his mission in life. His life isn't going to be easy, and he needs her beside him. The sooner they are together, the better for the whole world. So be their ally.

And speaking of little brother, don't discount him. He's got a better business sense than we do. He'll have a tough road for a while, but there will come a time when he'll need you. Invite him in, you won't regret it.

Don't let Percy be a prick again. Make him smile occasionally. Maybe get him to tell a joke or two. He's gonna need it when his family arrives. His kids will run circles around him. I should know, I'm training them personally.

Now, there are two more important people I really need to talk to you about.

Dad. I need you to watch him for me. You see, he could go two ways. He could work himself to death or he could relax and stay down there for a long time. Mum needs him. The family needs him. It's not up to him to avenge me. He needs to get back to messing with Muggle stuff and leave law enforcement up to Harry. A few words in his ear might wake him up.

Mum is the big one. Remember how pissed off we were about Percy, how he was killing her by being such a prat? Well, guess what. It's you now. You're killing her. Moping and hiding away. Not only is she missing her favorite, but now she's worried about you. Mum needs to be around for a long time. She's got an army of grandkids that will need mothering, or smothering, if you will.

It may seem I have put a lot on your shoulders, brother, but I need you to do all this. I was taken before my time. There was a lot I was supposed to do before coming up here. That's what evil does, you see. It takes away the what-might-have-beens. Lives that were not lived the way they should be. Now, I need you to do my things for me. I need you to live my life as well as your own.

This will be a strange thing to wrap your mind around, but you will remember all this. Only you will forget that you will remember. Pretty funky, I know. But it will make sense as time goes on.

Now, my time is nearly over. So get up! Shower and for Merlin's sake, brush your teeth. I can smell your breath from up here. Go downstairs and give Mum a kiss and ask what you can do for her. Ask Dad about his latest project. Give Harry and Ginny a boost so they could get on with their courting already. And most of all, get your arse back to the shop and open it up! I'm serious. I didn't die just to have our dream get closed down.

Love ya brother. I'll be looking in on you.

George stirred and opened his eyes. _He could have sworn Fred was right there in his room. Nah, just his imagination. Get out of bed and get cleaned up, that's what he needs. His own stink is enough to scare a ghost. Hmm, maybe Mum will make eggy bread._


	9. Healing Chapter 10, Planning

It didn't take long to understand what Molly was feeling. Ginny could see pain clearly on her mother's face. The owl had arrived. With so many funerals and memorial services, the Ministry is assigning dates and times. It was only fair. But it wasn't easy.

Bill and Fleur stepped out of the floo just as everyone else were gathered around her.

"Bill! I thought you needed to work." Molly wiped her eyes with the edge of her handkerchief.

"Yeah, I'll go back later. This is more important. I saw Dad and he said he might be late tonight." Bill leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek. Fleur followed. "I was told you were getting the letter now."

"Yes, Well, we have a choice," Molly nearly whispered. "We could join in with the combined service in two days, or we hold a private service in two weeks' time. His b…b…body is still up there and if we want to have private services…we'll…have to…" She couldn't continue. This was the hardest thing she ever had to deal with.

How could they choose between those two times? Before anyone else had a thing to say, George stood from his kitchen chair, his hand on his mother's shoulder. "No, I don't want to wait. I say to join in. He liked being in with lots of people."

Molly sank with relief. No planning. No cooking. No hosting. "Daddy said he would do what you decide, George. Personally, that's what I wanted too. I don't know if I could…" She flopped onto her chair, her body wracked with sobs.

Ginny rushed to embrace her mother. Soon, all the Weasleys gathered around her, touching her in some way. "Mom. We're here for you. We're together." No one spoke until she calmed again.

"Her...Hermione, I nearly forgot. Kingsley sent you a note." Molly said when her breathing was under control again. She handed Hermione an envelope. "Now everyone... I, we, need to contact all the family and let them know. I…I can't. I have a list on my desk, but I just don't have it in me right now."

"Don't worry about it, Mum, we'll take care of it." Ginny answered, looking at Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Molly nodded looking as if she had aged ten years in the space of an hour. She turned, and with George holding her up, she shuffled off to her room to lie down.

Fleur rolled up her sleeves, "For me now? I weel be cooking some dinner. I am certain we could all use some food." She marched into the kitchen.

Hermione had wandered off, reading her note. On finishing it, she seemed a little excited. "Ron, Ron, Kingsley's cleared my parent's house. It's safe to go there now."

He looked at the family, who were in a bit of shock still, " Can we go tomorrow? Let's get things settled here and I'll go with you then." Ron knew how much this meant to her, be he also needed to be with family.

As much as she wanted to go right that moment, she knew she could wait. With that, she took a breath, "Right. I agree. So now what do we have to do?"

Charlie looked around Molly's desk and found a list, written in an uncharacteristically shaky hand, of all the families who would need personal notification. "I think we could do with just owling a note to each of these. I'm not about to go in person."

Ginny balanced on the back of the sofa and dug through a box that was high on a shelf, "I know there was some stationary up here somewhere." She found a pad of parchment and rustled up some ink and quills. "Ron, would you mind flooing Mrs. Tonks and see if we could use her owl. Percy, can we use Hermes too?"

"Of course, he's at my apartment, I'll be right back." He said, then ran to the floo.

Bill then used the floo to go to Shell Cottage to get Beedy, his owl. When he returned, Hermione had written out what they should say and had everyone situated around the table, starting to copy the wording. Soon, there were thirty notes, addressed and ready to send. Andromeda not only sent her owl, but Nymphadora's also. Her note said that none of her family will want to show (or would be welcome), and Her husband's family have all died out. Little Teddy was the only family Remus had.

Charlie took control over the owls. Owls got confused if they had more than two deliveries at a time, so he had to sort and keep each owl's journey manageable. They were all sent out by the time Fleur announced dinner was ready.

Two hours after she went in to rest, Fleur knocked on Molly's bedroom door. "Molly? Would you like a tray?"

Molly lifted her head from her pillow. The tears had long ago dried, but the quiet darkness had helped calm her heart. "No, thank you, dear. I'll be right out." She stood and ran a brush through her hair. Taking a deep breath, she walked out and joined her family around her large table. She didn't think of what she was eating, but it was with the family and that made it good.

Before she could rise and start the washing up, Harry, Ron and Hermione were already working hard at it, and not with magic. Ginny wandered outside, making her way to the pond, to the old walnut tree. The one thing Ginny and Percy had in common was the love of that tree. The tree Arthur had planted to honor her two brothers when they were killed.

In the corner of her eye, Molly could see Harry move, as if to join her, but he changed his mind and turned back to the work. So sad. What was going on with those two? She was about to speak to him when she saw Arthur pop up just outside the boundary, carrying a scrawny sapling tree.

He walked straight towards the pond and set the tree down, then walked over to the shed and came back with a spade. With fierce energy, he started digging a hole, framed by the setting sun. Molly watched as Ginny tried to talk to her father, but the older man just pointed her away as if telling her to leave. Ginny shrugged her shoulders and wandered out of sight.

Molly bustle out the door. "Arthur, what are you doing?"

"I asked you, Arthur. What are you doing. Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Molly grabbed Arthur's arm, stopping him from digging. "Are you alright?" She asked when she saw his determined, yet nearly fearful face.

"Yes, Molls. I think so. Yeah." He looked back to the half-dug hole. "But I have to do this."

"Have to do what, dear?" She put her other hand on the shovel handle, to still the movement further.

"I had a dream, Molly."

"A dream?"

"While in the office, I dozed off. I…I saw Fred."

Molly paled, and gripped Arthurs arm tighter. "Go on."

"He…" He stopped, took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes, "He told me to plant a tree like this walnut we planted for Fabian and Gideon. Only, he wants an apricot tree."

"Apricot?" She was confused, not by the dream, but by the randomness of the fruit.

"He said that with the walnuts from the Uncles and then his apricots, you will no longer have an excuse not to make walnut apricot tarts every year." Arthur blew his nose. His chin still wobbled but he had a shaky smile. "He said every Christmas you'll need to make a batch just for him."

Molly stared at her husband, her emotions boiling but her face set grim. Arthur was afraid she would either call him a fool, or worse, laugh. Instead, she grabbed the shovel out of his hands and started digging the hole herself. "The hole needs to be wider. See if we still have some of the old manure left from the cow, if not, then tap into the compost pile. You chose a good spot here, good drainage."

 **A.N.: Walnut Apricot tarts are an unsweetened shortbread made with chopped walnuts formed into small cookie-sized bowls filled with a dollop of apricot preserves. They are also known as apricot thumbprints.**


	10. Healing Chapter 11 Prepare and Wait

Prepare and Wait

She didn't want to be one of those girls. Simpering, clingy, needy, weepy. She didn't want Harry to think she was like that. So, she gave him space. She gave him time. She didn't push herself on him. So, what was she doing wrong? Since they all came home, it seems they only spoke a dozen words together.

She didn't dare ask Hermione. Last time she asked, Hermione sent her off dating with all the wrong guys. Not gonna happen again. Mum? Uh, no. Ron would probably laugh at her and think it great. The other brothers? No, Too ridiculous. Fleur?

 _Fleur? Hmmm. Someone to think on. She's romantic yet doesn't put up with much._

 _But who's that?_

"Dad? I thought you had to work late?" She asked, walking toward her father. She reached out, ready to help with the sapling tree he carried in his arms. But he only brushed her off.

"Not now, Ginny, I'll talk later." He set the tree down and bustled off toward the shed.

Confused, she just shrugged her shoulders and wandered off to the rear meadow, where the family normally played quidditch. She didn't have a broom, but it was a good place to watch the sunset, and to just be alone.

Oh, why did she feel so sulky? No, she knew why. She bared her soul to HIM and he ignored it. He had plenty opportunities to say something, but, well, nothing.

' _I think I'm just tired right now.'_ She thought to herself. The nightmares were coming quite regular every night. Just about every two hours she awoke. And if it wasn't her, it was Hermione. They were a room of basket cases. Last night, Hermione admitted that the only one she wanted to comfort her was Ron. And that tonight, she was going to do something about it.

Ginny looked at the field around her and realized that where she stood was the only place on the whole property that couldn't be seen from any window in the house. Hermione still had the camping gear. Ginny smiled, and half ran to tell Hermione of her partly-formed idea. Maybe someone can feel some happiness.

0000

Early the next morning, Harry woke and found Ron gone. His bed was still (for Ron) neatly made. Had he even gone to bed? He shrugged and slipped his sweats back on. _'Third day in a row. Hmmm. Gonna need washing soon.'_ He thought to himself. Maybe he should send an owl off to Bill to remind him about money. _Sweat pants, no underpants, borrowed pajamas, too-small shoes, this is not a way to live._

He made his way down to the kitchen, smelling Molly's bacon and found Ron and Hermione sitting at the table, eating and talking. Nothing strange, except they were the first to be down. Ron was notorious for being the last out of bed. Then Harry saw Hermione's beaded bag poke out from the hem of the oversized jumper she was wearing. Yeah. Now he understood. Good for them. They need each other. Just…Just…Why does he feel, not jealous. Not really, alone, yeah, alone.

He wants what they have, with Ginny. But does she feel the same way? Is she ready to feel the same way? He ran out on her. She said she loved him, but then won't talk to him.

"Earth to Harry!" Hermione's voice shattered into his thoughts, "Bill's talking to you!" She pointed to the fireplace.

"Oh, Yeah, Good morning, Bill." He greeted the oldest Weasley.

"Hey! Just to let you know, I got you an appointment with the Head Manager at Gringotts this morning. They just sent me a note. Can you three meet me at Madam Malkin's in half an hour?"

Harry looked around him, but no one seemed to have any objections. He shook his head. "Sure'"

"Good, she's opening up just for you. Formal robes for the lot."

"What do you mean robes? I need real clothes." Harry spoke before he thought.

"Oh, yeah, nearly forgot. Speaking with the Head Manager is a super formal deal. We gotta get you all kitted out before you can even see him. If they're gonna forgive you lot, you gotta play their rules."

Ron moaned, "We have to face him too?"

"If you were there with the breakout, then you have to be there. Full dress. No exceptions. Madam Malkins, Twenty-five minutes. Floo. Ask for Martha Malkins, Diagon Alley. That'll take you to her private fitting parlor. I'll meet you there." With that, Bill's face faded from the green flame and the fireplace was stilled again.

Molly stood still, with her frying pan still in her hand. "I guess you three had better get in the shower double quick then." She looked down at her youngest son. "Er, I mean, Hermione, you first, then Ron. In the meantime, Harry, you eat." She whipped back around to face the stove, and Harry could see her face turn a little red. He could tell she also suspected where the two had spent the night.

When Hermione was safely upstairs, and Harry had eggs on his plate, Molly turned to Ron. "Son." She said simply.

He looked at her levelly. "Mum." He answered.

"You remember what we have talked about?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You'll be good to her?"

"I love her, Mum." Ron looked at her, no blush marred his face.

"Good, then. Well, no more to be said." Molly smiled warmly and turned back to her work.

Ron winked at Harry and ran upstairs to await his turn in the shower.

0000

When Ginny got downstairs, she found Harry leaving through the floo. What she didn't see was the way his eyes sprang wide in happiness at the sight of seeing her. She only saw him leaving her. She had to talk to Fleur. And now.

"Morning Mum. Would Fleur be coming by today?" she settled herself at the table and accepted the plate of toast that was handed to her.

"I wouldn't think so, but I do have her sweater that she left last night, if you want to take it back." Molly hustled off, having an idea of what might be behind the question. Something was wrong with Harry and her daughter and they needed to figure it out.

0000

Madam Malkin hurried about, throwing robes and accessories hither and thither everywhere. Ron had to duck or be hit in the head by a random dress shoe that was thrown in his general direction.

"Listen up. It's a big deal. Goblins hate us. They tolerate our business. They love our gold. All in that order. Get it?" At their nods, Bill continued. "You will be led into Head Manager's office. You will be offered a seat. DO NOT SIT! It will be a sign of weakness. Do not say anything. Do not show emotion. Not a smile, not a thing, nothing, understand?" Bill glared at Ron.

Ron stuffed his arm through a sleeve, "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"No. You don't understand. A simple grin and they will kill you. There will be a Goblin standing right behind you with a dagger and with a simple nod, you will be dead. No one can say a word about it either. Do you understand now?"

Ron stopped and stared at his oldest brother. He had never seen him so serious. "You mean…for real?"

"Yeah, for real." Bill repeated. "I've only met him once, a year ago. I'm not looking forward to this time." Bill took out a small vial. "As a precaution, I have this. It's No-Feel serum, very dangerous, very addictive to the depressed. You three are known to, well, act a bit impulsive."

Before he could think, Ron held out his hand, "Give it here."

Feeling like penguins, they crossed the street and crossed through the broken, yet imposing doors of the bank.

0000

Ginny stepped out of the floo, still unsure how to broach the subject of Harry. Fleur was sweeping her floor and turned when she saw her sister in law.

"Ah, good morning! What brings you today?" She swept Ginny into a cheeky kiss.

"Uh, you left this last night?" Ginny held the pink cardigan.

"Merci, that is so kind. Please, you wish for some tea, no?" Fleur gestured to the table and hurried to heat the kettle.

"Thanks." She slumped into a chair and stared out the window to the sea.

"I feel you did not come to see me for a cup of tea. What is wrong, mon ami?" Fleur set a tea tray in front of her and sat down.

"Oh Fleur. I don't know." Ginny took a sip. "It's Harry."

"Ah. That explains. Yes." Fleur nodded wisely.

"After the battle, I told him what I felt. Maybe it was too soon." The waves crashing took all her attention, so she didn't see her sister-in-law's smile.

"Ah sweet sister. It cannot have been too soon. You have known him for how long. Many years, no? You have loved him how long?"

"Since I first met him." Ginny felt silly, but it was true. She could no more deny it than she could deny her hair color.

"Then what is the problem?" Fleur reached for a bun and tore a tiny bite off it.

"He hasn't said anything back." Ginny fought a tear at the thought. "What if he doesn't feel the same?"

"Do you really believe zat?" There was no more smile, in fact, Fleur sounded almost angry.

Ginny snapped her head back to Fleur. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really think 'arry would just stop loving you? Do you really think you no longer mean the world to him? Can you not see the stars in his eyes when he looks on you?"

"I don't…Is that… I'm just so confused." Ginny gazed back to the water. She could see a storm brew way into the distance, but the sky overhead was still blue and sunny. Just as confused as she was.

"My dear. Do not worry. Give him time, but not too long time. But be patient, but not too patient."

Ginny laughed, "You realize that didn't make much sense."

Fleur returned her laugh and stood with her arms wide for a hug. "Oh, my sister, Love has nothing to do with sense. Love has to do with heart. Take heart. He will wake up and when he does, be there."

0000

The interview wasn't near as bad as they expected. There was a lot of yelling, a lot of accusations, a lot of derogatory comments about their heritage, all of which they were not allowed to respond to. But all in all, the Grant of Pardon was extended due to Harry killing Voldemort. The Dark Lord killed many goblins at the bank, an insult beyond all insults and Harry ended him. Debt paid. No questions were asked. No statements were allowed. With that, the interview was over. But their pockets were filled with a reasonable amount of reward money and a Scroll of Pardon each. One hour well spent.

When the four were back at Madam Malkin's, the No-Feel potion wore off. It didn't take long for Ron to run through every word he knew to counter every accusation given them in the Head Manager's chambers.

They kept their dress robes, but also raided Madam Malkin's limited selection of nearly-muggle-worthy style clothing of slightly outdated jeans, shirts, and trainers. Soon they had enough to tide them over until they had time and energy to deal with non-essentials.

0000

Hermione and Ron went directly to check her family home. Turning down their invitation, Harry returned to The Burrow but Ginny wasn't there when he returned. She stayed at Shell Cottage until after dinner. Was she avoiding him? What more could he do?

Harry then decided. He was moving to Grimmauld Place right after the funeral the next day. He was imposing now. He had helped out. He had done what he could but…well, it was going to get awkward now and they didn't deserve that. It was time. He went to find Arthur.

 **There is an external chapter about Ron and Hermione's visit to her family home called** **The Phone Call** **. This takes place directly after this chapter. These external chapters were written as stand-alone stories but they fit in sooo well.**


	11. Healing Chapter 12 Goodbye

It's Hard to Say Good-Bye

Services didn't start until late afternoon, but no one seemed to do want to do much of anything that day.

Ginny and Harry actually spent time together, but they discovered that the weight of the day wouldn't allow any real conversation. As much as they wanted to talk, the words dried up before they could be spoken.

George received an owl in the early hours and left before anyone else woke up. He left a note saying he would meet up with them all later.

Charlie went out for a walk and stayed out for hours.

Percy had stayed the night at his own apartment, and would meet them later that afternoon.

Bill and Fleur would be there an hour before they would all leave for Hogsmeade.

Ron and Hermione kept hidden away and didn't talk to anyone.

Arthur locked himself in his shed and stayed put until Molly dragged him out.

Molly? She cooked. No one ate, but she cooked. She didn't care what she cooked, but it was something she knew how to do. She didn't have to think. And thinking was to …No. Don't think. Kneading bread for an hour helped calm an anxiety she had never felt before.

Too soon, but not soon enough, it was time to change and to leave. As one, the Weasley's appeared at their appointed place and joined the throngs towards the castle. Friends would wave, distant family would break off and embrace, but all would move on. Thousands moving in a river towards the castle. No voice louder than a mutter.

They proceeded up to the edge of the Black Lake. In the shadow of Dumbledore's tomb, laying in white marble, were those who sacrificed all for those who attended.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione all sat in the row directly behind Molly. Bill, Fleur, and Arthur were on either side of her while Charlie and Percy sat in front. George still had not met up with them. He sent a Patronus to say to save him a seat for later.

Harry didn't remember what was said. He knew Kingsley said something. The Hogwarts Choir sang something. Celestina Warbeck sang something. Someone else talked. But it was all noise. No one said anything about Fred's laugh, or Collin's camera, or Tonk's hair color, or Lavender's silly headband, or…

Hermione grabbed his arm. "Harry be still." She whispered in his ear fiercely.

He pulled himself together and tried to pay attention. This was only the second funeral he had ever attended, and it so happened to be at the same place, all with in the same year. He was brought back to attention when the crowd was asked to stand. Standing, Harry noticed George had, sometime earlier, slipped into a seat on the other side of his father. The lost twin stepped around Arthur and kissed his mother then twisted on the spot and disappeared.

The names of the fallen were read and as the last was sounded, the sun gave its last gasp and slipped below the lake. At that moment, bursts of fireworks blossomed over the water and lit the sky in shouts of color. George appeared back beside his father again and stood facing his handiwork. The final burst was different, it spelled out words that puzzled most, only a few in the crowd understood the words that spelled in bright purple

Mischief Managed.

As the final lights dimmed, torches flamed bright and lit the way to the main gates, showing attendees the way home. People were apparating directly outside the gates to avoid the half mile walk to the village.

When the Weasley family appeared at their boundary, they moved toward the house, but Harry grabbed Ginny's and Molly's arms. "Uh, listen. I, uh. I really appreciate everything. Really. I love you all. But I have to…" Now that it was time to tell them he was leaving, he couldn't tell them.

"Dear? Are you saying you need to go to your own house now?" Molly asked sweetly. She knew. She could see it coming. And she had a warning from Arthur.

Harry sighed in relief. "Yes Ma'am. I've been away for so long. I need to check…"

"It's ok, Harry." Ginny said softly. "I understand. But come back, ok?"

He looked down at her, wondering if she really meant it. "I will. I'll come back." He promised, if only to see Ron.

"See that you do. You know that it's your home too. Always." Molly gave him a bone crushing hug before releasing him and turning to her home.

Harry reached down to pick up the rucksack he had placed earlier. He thought to turn on the spot, but Ginny still stood there. She wasn't weepy, she wasn't clingy. She didn't beg or plead. He loved that about her. He loved her strength. He loved her. He had to leave before he broke into pieces because she didn't love him the same way. He didn't deserve to be loved the same way. He had to go. But, why couldn't he stop looking into her chocolate eyes?

"Go. I know you need to go. But you need to come back and I'll be here. When you are ready, come back home." Ginny turned and went back to her house without looking back.


	12. Healing Chapter 13 What Purpose

**_Post-traumatic stress syndrome. How and when will it manifest? How and when can it be dealt with?_**

He didn't know what he was feeling. He didn't know he was feeling. He knew only that he was standing in the drawing room of dark, dreary, 12 Grimmauld Place. Just standing in the dark. Just staring at the worn, dusty drapes that stood as sentinels of gloom.

On the other side of these heavy shrouds, the world moved on. A world of sunshine. A world of people. People who shared smiles. Who shared hellos. People with a purpose

People who had no idea how much their lives were changed.

But there was a man who knew. A man? A boy? He felt like a boy today. A forgotten boy locked in an over-large cupboard because no one had a use for him anymore.

Only days ago, at Fred's funeral, Mrs. Weasley had embraced him and said he was welcome anytime. But Harry knew they were just words. Something one said to fill awkward conversations. He couldn't intrude on them. They were grieving. They had other things to deal with than a lonely outsider.

Ron and Hermione left for Australia to find her parents just yesterday. They had each other. They didn't need him.

Even Ginny seemed distant. Was he just a school crush? She had just lost her brother. She needed to grieve without him around.

He had no right to intrude, to impose.

Impose is all he could do. He had nothing left to do for anyone. He had no one to protect anymore. No one left to save. Nothing to drive him on. His purpose was over. Who needs him? Who would want him?

Off in the distance of his murky brain, he heard a brief click, a rustle as someone opened the door to the room. The drapes pulled themselves opened, blinding Harry as he turned, intending to yell at Kreature to close them again.

"Just what I feared." Molly said softly.

"What?" Harry coughed. His voice croaked, dry from disuse. His eyes watered at the sudden brightness.

"Why are you in here all by yourself?" Her tone soft, like a blanket on a chilly day.

"I…I didn't…" He stammered, looking everywhere but at the red-headed woman.

"You didn't what? Want to impose?" How could a woman sound so kind, so calm and still sound so exasperated?

"I, uh, yeah." The door frame was easier to talk to.

"Humph"

Harry looked into Molly's face. "Huh?

Her face set in a stern scowl. She moved towards the door and called down. "Kreature, We're ready for that tea now." She turned back to Harry, pointed to the sofa. "Sit."

It may have been his house, but he knew to never cross Mrs. Weasley. He sat. She drew up a chair to face him. Before he could frame any words, there was a POP and his house-elf laid a tea tray down onto a small table that had appeared between them. With a bow, he disappeared again.

"I had been told you haven't eaten anything in over two days. Is that right?" Her tone was still stern, but barely loud enough to hear.

"I…I haven't been hungry." He admitted. And he wasn't. He didn't want to be. Hunger meant real life. He wasn't ready for real life.

"Bullsh**!"

His head snapped up, not expecting such language from her. "Pardon?"

She sat back, pleased at his reaction. "You heard me." She reached over and poured their cups, adding just the right amount of sugar that Harry liked, then touched the covered plate, the vaporized dome revealed piles of small sandwiches. She chose two and placed them on the saucer under his cup. "Prove to me that you're not hungry."

He took a sip of tea and then a tentative bite of an egg sandwich. Without realizing it, his plate had been reloaded several times before he stopped. A lightness had lifted his mind as his stomach filled.

All that time, Molly sat and nodded. She didn't eat. She didn't talk. She just sipped her tea while she refilled his cup and plate as they emptied. When he stopped and looked amazed at the empty tray, she smiled and took the saucer and cup out of his hands. "There. How're you feeling? Hungry?" She said smugly.

"No ma'am. Thanks." Indeed, he wasn't hungry. He was feeling. And it didn't hurt. He was then made aware of a question that needed asking, "Why are you here?"

"Kreature came by today, about you." She answered casually as she tidied everything back onto the tray.

"About me?"

"Yes, you. He was worried. Master is not eating. Master is not sleeping. Is Master sick?" She looked closely into his face. "Are you?"

"No, no, I'm fi…" His voice trailed off when he caught sight of the white words tattooed on the back of his hand. 'I must not tell lies.' "Not sick, actually…" He paused, "Just, just…"

"Alone?" Molly's soft word hit him as hard as a bludger.

"Yeah. Maybe that's it." He admitted. How can one word mean so much?

"There is a cure for that, you know." She smiled at him but didn't go any further.

"A cure?" He asked stupidly.

"Yes, come home."

"I…I couldn't." Harry jumped off the sofa and started pacing.

"Why not?" She asked with an indulgent laugh.

"I…I don't want to intr…"

"Are we back to that again?" Molly stood and held his arm, gently forcing him to stop and look at her. "If you were an imposition, would I be here?"

No, Ma'am. Just…just. Well, it's time for your family now, isn't it?" Her gentle, soft voice was shaking him. Where's the powerhouse that could vanquish even Bellatrix? It was easier to face the red-headed fury of Mrs. Weasley than this understanding, calm woman.

Then he saw a fire build up in her eyes. "Harry James Potter! You may not have red hair, but you are still one of my own! Now, are you going to pack up and come home with me?" Yep. Right there, the Molly Weasley that he knew!

"If you want me, ok." He backed away, afraid she would take back the offer.

"Fine. Kreature has packed a bag. Now get your jacket on and let's go. I have dinner to cook." She bent to pick up her handbag and then pushed Harry out the door.

Ginny had just finished washing the dishes and was drying her hands when she heard the whoosh of the fireplace. She turned in time to see her mother step out, followed by Harry. She dropped her towel to the floor as she rushed past her mother and into Harry's arms.

"It's about bloody time!" She whispered fiercely in his ear.

"Go on, take him out to get some air." Said Molly as she slid her handbag onto a chair.

Without a glance back at her mother, Ginny dragged Harry out into the garden. "What took you so long?" She asked, looking as fierce as her mother.

Harry dragged in a long breath, "I… I don't know." And that was the truth. He didn't know. How could he have forgotten that his purpose was standing right in front of him, his place in the world was right in this very garden?


	13. Healing Chapter 9 The Streets of Hell

The Streets of Hell

Ron walked on through the charred street. He felt, rather than heard the crunch of his feet on the shattered cobbles. The sun refused to break through the clouded, darkened sky- ashamed of the evil it would reveal. No sound dared to puncture the heaviness.

No, not again. It was the same street he had walked many times in the past few days. It was the hell he would walk the rest of his life- however long that might be.

To his left, there was a large dog, barely bones, barely alive, scavenging in the ditch. Ron's stomach turned when he saw the small body that was lying there. But he had to move on. He had no choice.

He came to a small cottage, it's thatch still smoldering. A young boy, a toddler took a few steps out the door and just stared at him. His innocent eyes not blinking as he walked past. Ron tried to yell, scream, warn him to get back inside, to hide, but no sound could break through the heavy darkness. A woman, dressed in rags leapt out and snatched him in, bowing many times in fear. The door slammed shut soundlessly.

The road before him was blocked. He tried to avert his eyes, but they were drawn to his family who were tossed so haphazardly in the pile of other bodies and bones. But he couldn't mourn yet. He was drawn, forced to turn, forced to face his destiny.

And there it was. A figure dressed in moldy blackish green. As he neared, the dark figure turned, revealing a white face devoid of anything except glowing red eyes. It raised a lit wand and slowly pointed it at Ron.

Ron stopped his forward movement. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide. But he couldn't, His fate was written in that emotionless face. He closed his eyes, knowing what will happen, what had happened many times before.

This time, something was different. A warmth grew from his core. A hum found it's way to his ears. A shaft of light fell on his face. He slowly opened his eyes and found himself in his room. Freshly curled, with her back against him, was the only sunshine that could break the darkness. Pushed against his shoulders, rumbling softly was a flat-faced ball of fur.

Mum would blow her top. Dad would look disappointed. The others would laugh. Against all rules, a girl was sharing his bed. He didn't care. The battle had ended only days ago, leaving him to deal with this torment alone. He only knew now that with Hermione next to him, he will never be lost in hell again.

 **A/N I thought for sure that Healing was complete, that is, until Ron let me know that this tiny piece of his story needed to be told.**


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